


How to be a teenager

by nishiki



Series: when the world is burning [6]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: AltMal, Desmond is fat, M/M, being a teenager isn't easy, no cookies for Desmond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 12:33:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3529592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nishiki/pseuds/nishiki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being a teenager isn’t always easy and especially joining a new school is a very frightening experience. Desmond now need to accept that it is time for him to grow up and leave the past behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How to be a teenager

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget, you can always write me your requests for new mini ficlets ^^ (either here or here: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/niishiki) I LOVE reading and writing them.

Waking up because something heavy fell down on the mattress between him and his husband, should in fact not surprise Malik Al-Sayf. After seven years and after six years of living together with Altaїr – his infamous husband – and his little brothers, there wasn’t much left that really could surprise him at all. Still, he was surprised when he was startled from his sleep in the middle of the night just because of the weight that crashed down between them. It wasn’t Ezio, because if it would be Ezio there would be already a lot of whining going on and it certainly wasn’t Connor because then their bed would’ve crashed, also he left two days ago to go back to the campus and Kadar never came to their bed (well he did when he was sick, but that didn’t count). So, in consideration of all those facts you didn’t need to be a genius to deduct who the intruder was.

Malik could only grumble a little bit when he turned in the bed to face the teenager that lay between them while Altaїr still slept like dead. He had worked late last evening and only dropped into their bed after midnight. There was just the faint glow of the streetlamp in front of their home shining through the window and spending just enough light so he could see Desmond's face vaguely.

"What's wrong?" Malik asked with a low slur to his words when he grabbed the rest of his big blanket and threw it over the teen. He wouldn't kick him out of the bed, instead, he just grabbed for his forehead and rested his hand on the skin. No fever, he wasn’t sick. He was afraid. After seven years he knew Desmond pretty well, even though he got a little more reserved while growing up and became a little more serious. "Are you nervous?"

He heard the slight rustling of the bedding when the boy shook his head. Of course, he was nervous. Desmond wasn’t a good liar and tomorrow was his first day in High-School. At least he hadn’t thrown up for now (which he did when he changed to Junior High some years ago). "There's no need to be afraid, Des."

"I'm not afraid." He mumbled quietly.

"Just keep in mind that you won't be alone, right? Kadar will be there too and he will be in the same situation like you are and then there is still Leonardo. I believe you could always go to him if you need help with anything."

"I'm not afraid." He mumbled again and Malik smirked a little but wrapped his arms around the teen. Desmond struggled only a little and only for the show, before he relaxed a bit in the hug and nuzzled closer. "What if the others won't like me?"

That was the normal reaction every student would go through, Malik knew that but the idea of being not liked was offensive to Malik. How should anyone in his right mind not like Desmond? He was nice and kind-hearted, he was funny and often silly, he was quite athletic (in consideration of his former more lazy self) and he looked good and was smart. Not liking Desmond was like you do not like kittens or puppies! It was a crime against human nature. "Don’t worry about that. In the beginning, all the new kids will be awkward and shy and the older kids will maybe make a little fun of you novices, but I'm sure you will fit in perfectly well, after all, Ezio is still a _legend_ of the school, right? Other than this Shaun, Rebecca and Lucy will be there too, right?"

A small nod and then a soft sigh. Malik concentrated only on Desmond, his eyes already closed again because he couldn’t see much in the darkness of the room now anyway. Next to them Altaїr still slept soundly and peacefully. He was so used to sharing his bed not only with Malik that even Desmond's attack hadn’t startled him a bit. "But what if the teachers will compare me to Connor and Ezio? I don’t like being compared to them. My teachers in Junior High always compared me to Connor, that sucked ass."

"You don’t need to prove to anyone that you are better or the same like them, Des. You are your own person and you will learn and grow in your own speed. There is no need to worry and no footsteps to follow in. Well … you probably should avoid following Ezio's example. No fistfights for you, okay?"

"I'll try not to punch anyone during the next years." He mumbled. "And I'll try not to get shot too."

"That's my boy." Malik grinned again when finally there was a small groan next to them.

" _shatap_ …"

* * *

The first day of High-School was a bright and sunny one in the early days of September. There was a big hand on his shoulder when Desmond already grabbed for the door handle of the car. Kadar already jumped out and waited for him outside on the sidewalk while he looked around with his big blue owlish eyes. Desmond was afraid. He really was fucking afraid. The school was way bigger than his last one and there were way more people running around.

"You alright?" Malik asked next to him sitting in the driver's seat. He nodded hastily and just briefly flashed him a smile.

"Yeah I'm good." He mumbled before he finally opened the door and got out of the car. Before he could close the door behind him Malik leaned over the passenger's seat. Of course, he wore one of his favorite suits - even though Altaїr still teased him about how ridiculous it was that he would always dress up like this for work.

"I'll pick you up later, right?" Malik asked but Desmond shook his head.

"No, I'm good. I don’t know when I'm finished here so don’t worry about me, okay? I can walk." Of course, Kadar protested but Desmond didn’t really care when he finally grabbed his backpack and moved towards the building. He didn’t like change at all. He didn’t like changing locations. He didn’t like new places and new people and getting along with them. He didn’t like also that this was the school his older brothers went to and that this was the place where Malik and Ezio got shot years ago.

It had been all over the news and he was certain people would remember when he said who he was. He didn’t want to be _the brother of the guy who was shot_. Connor said it hadn't been so bad, but Connor war a guy nobody would mess with just because of the way he looked. It was incredible how fast he grew before and during High-School and the football coach nearly broke into tears when Connor declined his pleas of getting into the team. Most people were a little bit frightened when they saw his big (literally) brother and just a few knew that he was nothing more than a big teddy bear. Connor was exactly the guy who would carry your books if they are too heavy (no matter if you are a girl or a boy). He was the guy who protects you from bullies and who helps teachers with anything. He was the kind of guy parents _wanted_ around their daughters for he would never harm a girl in any way. He was the good kid and for that people liked him.

Desmond on the other hand … well, he was the weird one.

Ezio was the charming brother, Altaїr was the … well, he was _Altaїr_. He couldn’t really say anything about him, for he was more the mother-hen of their family, but he was strong and tall and intelligent and creative. He was the genius brother who always had a plan and who always knew all the answers. Kadar was the dorky and geeky brother who wanted desperately to be more like Ezio but was still too innocent and clumsy to really get the hang of how to approach girls. But Desmond was just the baby. There really was nothing special about him - at least nothing he knew of. He wasn’t outstanding intelligent like Altaїr or creative. He wasn’t flirtatious and charming like Ezio, he was not kind and sweet like Connor and he was certainly not funny and adorable like Kadar. He was just there. That was how it always had been. He had no special talents and most of the time he didn’t even really know what to expect or do with his life.

And now he was again in another school where his brothers had been before him and where the teachers would probably recognize him and where they would try and compare him to the other two _Miles-boys_. Never in his life had he wanted to change his last name more than today. He wanted it because he wanted to get rid of his father's name and with that got rid of his memory so he could deny his very existence, but he wanted also to prohibit getting compared to Connor and Ezio and to not be just yet another _Miles-boy_.

"Wait!" Kadar shouted when he ran after him. Kadar didn’t show any signs of fright for the upcoming day, but he sure was just as afraid as Desmond was. At least Kadar was the type of guy who got along with others pretty easily. He was popular most of the time because of his funny and dorky nature. People liked him for his laid-back personality.

"Don’t dally." Desmond just replied dryly and moved forward without waiting for his … Kadar. They were often referred to as brothers, of course. He saw Malik and Kadar as his brothers but it was always so hard to explain and he hated it so much. Every god damn time it was the same thing. Every time he needed to tell people Kadar was the younger brother of his big brother's husband. Every time people would look funny at him. It felt normal when they were at home. He loved his family and he had no problem with all this whatsoever, but it was hard in school anyway. Not all people would react relaxed about hearing his brother was gay and married to another man and that those two pretty much raised him.

He often asked Connor how he would do it, but the older one simply shrugged his shoulders and said _"I told them"_. That was Connor. He just said things how they were. When he was asked he just said it and didn’t bother himself with lying or the fear of rejection, because he said people who don’t accept you for who you are, are not your friends and are not worthy of your time. He was right about that, but still it felt weird. Still he didn’t like it.

"Look who's finally here!" There was the booming, warm voice of Leonardo - Mr. da Vinci from now on - filling the hallway and Desmond really liked to be swallowed by the earth when he spotted the blonde teacher standing by one of the doors with this big smile on his face waving at them like an idiot. "Desmond, Kadar! See you in class tomorrow? I can't wait to have all of you boys for my collection!"

Desmond felt his cheeks turn a bright pink when he suddenly felt very aware of all the people staring at him (and Kadar), but the older boy just grinned sheepishly at the teacher while Desmond focused his eyes on his shoes and hastily walked on to leave Kadar and Leonardo behind. It  was the first day of school and he was already embarrassed before he even made it into the class.

Great.

Desmond didn’t even know exactly how he made it to his classroom after he figured out where to go first. It was not until lunch break that he first met his friends again. It was Shaun who grabbed him by the entrance of the cafeteria and dragged him to one of the tables where Rebecca and Lucy already sat chatting. Of course, he was relieved to see his friends again and having a somewhat safe haven in here - in this ocean of faceless and noisy strangers.

"So?" Lucy asked when he sat down opposite of her at one of the tables in the cafeteria hidden in a corner – how he preferred it. She was wearing this one white blouse again that suited her so well. It didn’t show any sign of cleavage but as a teenage boy Desmond didn’t need to really _see_ , the knowledge that _something_ was under there was enough for him to turn his attention away from Lucy and her white blouse and her long blonde hair and her beautiful blue eyes and her pale-pale skin and- _fuck_.

"What?" Desmond replied dryly. Shaun didn’t even grant him the chance of getting something to eat when he dragged him to their table but he wasn’t hungry anyway and instead just grabbed the apple lying on Rebecca's tray - because she won't eat it (she never did). She didn’t bother lifting her eyes from her phone because of the theft. Sometimes he wondered why she even got apples or oranges all the time when she never ate them, but perhaps she did so for him to have something to steal from her when he was _not hungry_.

"How was your day until now?" Lucy concretized her question with a small smile. He fucking _loved_ that smile. Desmond had really no clue when his feelings towards Lucy changed so much. They were friends since elementary-school, in fact, Lucy was his best (female) friend and one of the rarer female humans in his life that really meant something to him, but at some point, something changed. Suddenly Lucy wasn’t just his best friend anymore, suddenly Lucy wasn’t his buddy anymore who would play with him on the playground and shove him into the mud and suddenly Lucy was _a woman_. Of course, he was aware that this would probably happen at one point when they would grow up – but he never thought it would really happen. Not to Lucy. And now here they sat. Lucy was a woman and he was … well definitely no man, but still male … and she was absolutely gorgeous. When did that happen? Of course, he hadn’t seen her much since summer started for Lucy and her parents were on vacation and all that stuff, but now she was back and she was … a fucking angel! How was that even fair? She was even taller than him!

"Desmond?" Suddenly he felt very aware of his friends staring at him and he suddenly felt also very aware of staring at Lucy's … _blouse_. He nearly choked to death on the bite of apple he managed to take without even noticing. That was the thing with food and him: mostly he didn’t even notice he was eating. It just happened. He was like a vacuum cleaner when it came to food and somehow there was always someone feeding him!

" _wat_?" He mumbled and shoved another bite of apple into his mouth before he could be forced to speak again.

"I asked how your day was." Lucy chuckled and leaned forward. Oh, fuck. Was she even aware of how her body (her upper body) moved?! _That_ was illegal. _That_ was not okay and that was absolutely indecent and inappropriate for him to notice!

"Oh … it was fine." He murmured and lowered his gaze to the table just to stop himself from staring.

"Have you gone a little chubby or is that just my imagination?" Rebecca's suddenly chimed in and lifted her eyes from her phone (if only for a second).

"Yeah, actually I thought that too when I first saw you." Shaun added helpfully and Desmond felt his cheeks turn pink _again_. Well, maybe he had gained a little more weight during the summer. He ate lots of ice-cream, moved less and ate a lot of greasy pizza (whenever he got his fingers on it and whenever Malik wouldn’t know, Kadar was a really good accomplice when it came to the matter of fast food and sweets – but Kadar grew faster than him).

"Am not." Desmond replied after a moment and after he finished his apple (as if to prove that he ate healthy) and extended his finger towards Shaun's tray. He couldn’t help it! It was just his body moving on his own!

"Yeah you are!" Rebecca chuckled. "You really are a little chubbier! How did you even get into those jeans this morning?"

 _With a lot of jumping and cursing_ , Desmond thought to himself while he shoved a few chips into his face.

"I think it looks cute." Lucy then said with a sly grin. "It looks better than in the past when you were thin like a twig."

"Well, you can pinch his cheeks now." And exactly that was what Shaun did and Desmond just barely heard the clicking of the camera of Rebecca's phone when she took a picture of the assault.

"The internet is gonna love this..." She commented before she began typing on her phone again. "#sweet baby Desmond #chubby baby gets chips #baby's first day of school."

"Would you stop calling me baby?" He just moaned chewing before he stole Shaun's drink and the brit didn’t even bother telling him off because his friends already knew they had no chance against his instincts when it came to food and soft drinks.

"But you _are_ the baby." Shaun replied smugly. "You always were and you always will be."

Yes, he knew that pretty well. But still, he was at school now! More important he was at High-School now and he was not supposed to be a baby at High-School! "Oh fuck off Shaun." He grumbled before he finally stood up again. He didn’t really know why he suddenly felt so angry, but he was. He hated it to be called the baby but he could tolerate his brothers doing it because they were his brothers – and because he liked being _their_ baby. He liked being cuddled and spoiled by his brothers (even though he wouldn’t admit it).

"Where are you going Des?" Lucy called after him when he left the cafeteria, but he didn’t turn nor did he answer. He didn’t want to. He was tired of his friends nagging and teasing him. Of course he was glad having them still by his side, but still, he didn’t want to be with them right now. So he left and made his way back through the many, many confusing hallways. He already lost all orientation – again. But that didn’t matter. He just wanted to find some quiet place where he could sit and really do nothing at all.

Desmond just wanted to barge into the restroom and hide in a bathroom stall like a five-year-old although nothing happened. He didn’t make it to the restrooms. For one reason because he had no clue at all where to find the restrooms or where he even was and because he suddenly bumped into a girl that left a classroom to his side quite hastily. A bunch of papers slipped from her fingers and fell to the floor when the girl staggered back a little with a small curse.

"Are you retarded?" She groaned when Desmond reflexively crouched down to help her without even looking at the girl. He should tell her to fuck off for it wasn’t him who barged out of a classroom like this, but like the good boy he was he grabbed the papers and stood up again, after he had become very well aware of her long-long naked pale legs and the very-very short skirt she was wearing and assumed it would be better to not crouch on the ground in front of a girl dressed like this. With an uncertain smile, he gave the papers back to her, but she just grabbed them roughly and shoved them in her back after looking around. They were alone.

"I'm sorry." Desmond said although he didn’t do anything wrong at all and although his heart still beat faster than usual out of stress. "I didn’t see you. I am D-"

"You are one of those freakish Miles-Boys, right? You are Ezio's and that other guy's brother!" There was nothing positive in her voice when she said that. The whole morning he had been greeted like that, but way more friendly. Nearly every teacher he met stopped by his name on the list and smiled at him before saying " _You are Ezio's and Connor's brother, right?"_. This girl, on the other hand, didn’t look happy at all to see another one of them.

"Y-Yes?" Suddenly he didn’t feel so sure about that. Not standing in front of a gorgeous girl like this. She was blonde like Lucy but her hair was way longer than Lucy's and easily reached her hips. Her clothes looked expensive though she wasn't wearing _much_ if it was for Desmond's liking. Girls were still something mystical for him after growing up in a house full of men, but he was raised to being polite and nice towards girls and _not to stare_ – like he did again. He couldn’t help it. He was fifteen. Fifteen-year-old boys stare. "I'm Desmond."

The girl raised a brow at him as if there was something about this statement she couldn’t believe at all and suddenly Desmond wasn’t so sure if Desmond really was his name. Was it Paul? No. Desmond. He was certain. That was his name. Malik wrote it on his lunch box. "Like if I care for your name." The girl said and took a step back. Her eyes were brown and beautiful, but the way she was looking at him wasn’t and the disgust when she eyed him up, not only caused Desmond to feel fat all of the sudden but made her pale and pretty face suddenly very very ugly. She was about to say something, but then another door swung open and Leonardo's warm voice boomed across the hallway again.

"Desmond, there you are! I thought I heard your voice!" With a wide smile the blonde Italian waved at him from the door he was standing at when his eyes fell upon him. The girl looked at the teacher, and then she looked at Desmond, raised the other brow too, made a face and left with a small _"tsk"_. Desmond had no clue if he should be confused or offended by her _tsk_ that was clearly directed at him! "I see you already met Lucrezia." Leonardo chuckled when Desmond finally moved again and closed the gap between him and the teachers.

Leonardo hadn’t changed a bit in those last years since Desmond knew him, he still was cheerful and always in a good mood and he had nearly always stains of paint somewhere on his clothes. "Hello..." Desmond finally mumbled when he reached the man and felt his worried look on his face.

"You were gone so fast this morning." Leonardo smiled and gestured for him to go inside the room he just stepped out. There was no reason not to follow his offering so Desmond stepped inside the room with a small sigh. It smelled like paint and paint thinner and was unmistakably the art room. There were easels standing around and brushes in jars on the floor.

"Yeah … I'm sorry for that." Desmond mumbled and suddenly felt very guilty for his behavior, before he sat down heavily on one of the stools standing around and Leonardo joined him with a small shake of his head and a wary smile.

"Nothing to worry about, kid." He said but eyed him up carefully. "Are you alright, Desmond? You look stressed."

"Nah I'm good." Desmond then said with a small grin even if he didn’t really felt like grinning or smiling at all. He felt a lot like this lately.

"Yes, I can see that." Leonardo chuckled before he bent his upper body a little bit forwards with his elbows resting on his legs to look up at his face this time. "You are not a very good liar Desmond. What is wrong? Did Lucrezia say something?"

"No, I just bumped into her. She seems to be one of those popular girls, right?" She was pretty for being a popular girl - and mean enough probably too.

"I guess you can say that." There was a small huff after his words and a sly grin that said much more than any words could. "So back to you. Why are you upset?"

"Am not."

"Don’t try to fool me, little one, I know you long enough and you know you can tell me everything, right? So. What is it? Are you worried because Bill will be getting out next summer?"

Leonardo's word sparked something inside Desmond's little stupid head – of course, they did – but this wasn’t the reason. When his _father_ had been imprisoned he was just ten years old and of course he had understood even as a ten-year-old child what it meant that his father was going to prison. He had been part of the trial even though he and Connor never spoke in front of the public with the judge and had been always accompanied by a child therapist, but back then he never truly got it. He understood that his father had done horrible things to his oldest brother, he had seen the blood and how he looked when they escaped the house so many years ago, but he never truly got it. He knew his brothers never wanted him to know and perhaps it would be for the best if he didn’t, but he wasn't as stupid anymore and he was very well aware of his ruined childhood and that the guy that was responsible would get out of prison next year. He nodded. It was easier to say it was because of Bill getting out.

"Are you afraid of him?" Leonardo then asked again with that worried look. For a moment he could see him looking around like he was searching for some sweets so he could soothe the baby, because that was what his family normally did. They bribed the baby with sweets. He couldn't hold it against them, it was easier like this sometimes.

"Maybe a little." Desmond then said. This wasn’t exactly the kind of topic he wanted to talk about with Leonardo on his first day of High-School. "Listen, Leonardo, thank you for your help and that you worry about me, but I am fine – really. I'm just a little bit confused because of the new school and all this stuff. I don’t like changes and new places or being compared to my brothers constantly."

"I get it." Leonardo smiled and ruffled through his short hair. "But you can come and talk to me whenever you want, okay? And of course whenever you don’t want to be compared to your brothers. How about joining my art club?"

He was quite certain Leonardo asked that to make him laugh, because he did make him laugh. "Nah I think I'll pass." He then grinned before getting to his feet again. "You still remember my attempts in drawing, right?" But Desmond was still impressed how good Altaїr and Connor were when it came to stuff like that. He was always stunned when he saw Altaїr's work. He had a good eye not only when it came to photography. "I have to go now. I need to crawl back to my friends and apologize for leaving them behind."

But he didn’t. After he left the art-room he never went back to the cafeteria to talk to his friends and a little part of him really felt guilty about this, but he couldn’t bring himself to. He wanted to be alone and think, but when he left for the schoolyard and looked around there were people all around. He spotted Kadar standing around near the dumpster area and finally decided to join him. He looked a little bit lost and lonely standing around on his own like this, although Desmond was certain that he already made new friends. Kadar simply was like this. He never was alone because he didn’t have friends, but because he chose to be alone. "I can't believe that it was already five years ago." Desmond said to alarm him of his approach before he stopped at his side.

"Yeah. But it still feels like it was just yesterday." Kadar replied quietly. Of course, it must be hard being back at this place where his big brother – his only family – was shot and nearly died. Perhaps it hadn’t been the best idea of Kadar joining _this_ school. Kadar's face was bloody, when Desmond stopped next to him. It was crusted underneath his nose and in the left corner of his mouth.

"What the fuck happened?" He almost instantly yelped, but Kadar just raised one eyebrow at him and shrugged his shoulder in defeat.

"As soon as I left the classroom there was a guy dragging me to the toilets to punch me in the face." He stated like it was something that happened every other day and was totally normal and understandable. "He said it was because of my name and that the other students don’t want to have a terrorist at this school, but when he left he said something about my brother. So I guess it was about Malik."

"What do you mean? Why should some guy punch you because of Malik?" Desmond couldn’t help but to inspect Kadar's face more closely. He still had no reservation whatsoever that was something that never changed about him, so he grabbed Kadar's chin and turned his face in all directions, already feeling anger boiling inside his chest. He hated violence, but he wanted to go and punch that bastard that hurt his … Kadar. Whatever.

"Well I saw the guy with Lucrezia Borgia before, she is the younger sister of Cesare, the guy that shot Malik and Ezio."

"Yes I know who that is." And now he knew why Lucrezia looked at him like this. He should brace himself for being treated like Kadar it seemed, but he would have none of this bullshit. He had enough of being pushed around by bullies and he would fight back most certainly. "Who was it? Show me who did this."

"No Des, it's okay, really. I just go and wash my face and then it's fine." Kadar sighed when he took a step back, but Desmond just crossed his arms in front if his chest and flashed the older boy an angry look.

"It's not okay, Kadar! You cannot let yourself getting treated like that! You need to fight back." He growled.

"No, I need to report that to a teacher at the most, but not fight back! That is not the solution to this situation, Desmond. There will be always idiots like this guy!" Of course, he was right and they both knew that Kadar was right. Desmond never liked it when people got into fights especially not violent ones. He hated it to see Ezio with a bloody nose coming home from school because of Cesare or some other guy, because it reminded him of all those years at Bill's place, but he couldn’t let it go on like this. There was no way of letting this happen!

"I don’t think your brother or my brother would want us to bear with something like that and to not fight back when we are getting hurt by idiots like this." Desmond then grumbled and grabbed him by his wrist. "Now come on! Show me who it was." He demanded again, but Kadar didn’t move and just snatched his wrist back and out of Desmond's tight grip.

"Just leave it alone Desmond, it is alright! I don’t need _you_ to protect me or to fight my wars!" Normally he and Kadar got along pretty well. Of course in the beginning, when he was but a jealous child they often fought about nonsense, but they grew together pretty well during the past five years. He was not like his brothers and not so much like Malik. Kadar really was like a good friend, a buddy to do stupid stuff with and to hang out with, but when they fought it was most likely to get ugly.

"Well, apparently you do need my help!" Desmond replied. "Otherwise, your nose wouldn’t look like this!"

"I can fight for myself, Desmond. I don’t need the baby to do it and I chose not to fight back because it is pointless but I cannot expect _you_ to understand this." His brows were furrowed together and his mouth a thin line.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I mean that you are so unused to not getting what you want that you rage every time you don’t get it!" Kadar growled and is face suddenly didn’t look like Kadar at all, his blue eyes seemed darkened with anger.

"I am no spoiled brat!"

"Yeah you are! What do you think why you always got what you wanted and why there always is someone shoving food in your face? Nobody wants the baby to cry!"

When Kadar was punched for the second time this day, it was not because of some bully on the schoolyard or because Lucrezia Borgia wanted it, but because Desmond Miles lost his temper. He was certainly not as strong as his older brothers, but still, Kadar stumbled back after Desmond's fist collided with his face. His knuckles started hurting immediately, but the sting of remorse felt even worse. "Is that all you can do, Desmond?" Kadar yelled before he shoved him back. There were already people staring at them, but Desmond didn’t care. "What are you trying to accomplish?! Are you now following your father's example? Is there nothing else how you can win an argument with?!"

Oh he really wanted to punch him again in the moment Kadar mentioned his father, but he didn’t. Instead, Desmond turned and ran. He ran without looking back and without acknowledging Kadar calling after him and without even noticing that even Leonardo poked his head out of his window to see what was happening in the yard. He ran without even thinking about the school or the rest of his school day. He just wanted to run and run and run.

Desmond knew perfectly well why he was so angry and why he felt so stressed and anxious all the time. He knew perfectly well why he slept in Malik's and Altaїr's bed last night. It wasn’t the school. It wasn’t Bill. It wasn’t him being called the baby all the time. It was because he wanted to know his brother was safe. He wanted to be with him last night to know he was alright, he was anxious because he feared for his brother and the things that could happen when Bill was released from prison. He felt stressed because he was afraid, because he didn’t know what _he_ would do when Bill would be released and dared to get close to him.

Desmond didn’t really know how it happened that he arrived in the poor part of Dorchester. The streets of this part of town still felt familiar to him, when he stumbled down the sidewalk and remembered all the times he wandered this path with his big brother's hand closing around his much smaller. Now his hand wasn’t so small anymore and he could easily wrap it around Altaїr's. He could protect his big brother if it really would come to this next year. No, he _would_ protect his big brother, because he was tired of being the baby that needed to be cradled and soothed.

He didn’t bother looking at the houses on his way and he didn’t bother thinking about the reasons why he went back to this place. He knew it perfectly well. In front of the old house, he stopped. It looked even shabbier than he remembered it to be from his childhood. For a moment he just stood and looked at the place. The front door looked unhinged and he was pretty sure the house had been raided during the past years. The windows on the upper floor were mostly smashed it seemed and there was graffiti all over the walls and in the driveway stood still Bill's truck – without it's tires but therefore with broken windows and dents.

He still remembered this place covered in snow and still remembered the night of the 11th January when they left. He still remembered how afraid he had been, but not because of Bill. It wasn’t the first time he had seen Altaїr unconscious, but it had been the first time he really was afraid his brother would never open his eyes again. For years he dreamt about the blood in the kitchen and his finger lying around and his father slumped down on the ground by the fridge. He had pressed himself tightly to Connor's side and watched Ezio dragging their brother outside into the snow and how he carried him through the streets and through the city until they arrived at Malik's place. And he still remembered climbing into Malik's bed the morning after to curl himself into Altaїr's flank and just listening to his heartbeat and breathing. He had never been more afraid in his entire life.

And yet he was here again.

After a while he got his legs to move again. He didn’t want to enter the house, but still, he bridged the distance between him and the front door. The lock of the door was broken and because the door itself was unhinged he just needed a small push against the wood (the old familiar wood) until the last barrier between him and the house was finally removed, but still he hesitated just a little before he stepped in.

The house smelled muggy and nothing like he remembered it so smell. He didn’t close the door behind him. It didn’t feel right. He knew he was alone in the house, but still, it felt eerie and unreal and perhaps it was instincts telling him to not shut the door and to not block the way out. For a moment he just stood in the entrance of the house and looked around. It looked pretty much like he remembered it, only with the addition of mold on the walls and destroyed furniture here and there. He looked into the kitchen, but didn’t stepped into the room, just poked his head into it. The cabinets were open and empty except for the dishes. Even the fridge was wide open and empty. The stove looked greasy and dirty. He avoided looking down at the spot in front of the sink because he could still see what appeared to be arrears of long dried blood – at least he thought the dark blotches were exactly that. Now that he stood right there he could nearly see it all happening again, he could nearly see Altaїr lying there in front of the sink again, and so he turned and stepped further into the house and with that into the living room. The couch was ripped as if a wild animal would’ve ripped it apart, the TV was gone, the bookshelves emptied and the books torn. There were just two other rooms on this floor, the small toilet and Bill's room and neither of those he would like to see. He never went into Bill's room because he avoided being close to Bill in anyway whatsoever. He had no interest in seeing his creepy bedroom.

Instead, Desmond finally moved and walked up the stairs. For a small moment he really was afraid the steps would break under his weight, but they didn’t, they just moaned and squeaked with every step and it felt so weird being back here, wandering up these stairs again. When he was here the last time he never went downstairs on his own and he still remembered vividly how Altaїr would always hold his hand while walking downstairs and how he taught him when he was so little he could hardly climb the stairs with his short legs. He had fallen down this stairs more often than he could really remember every time he had climbed them on his own. When he reached the top of the stairs he suddenly remembered the loud noise from that night when Bill shoved Altaїr down and it felt so real like it was happening in that exact moment.

He took his time glancing back to the end of the staircase, but there was no Altaїr lying on the ground and there was no Bill next to him shoving him. He was alone and he felt afraid, like he did always when he was in this house. He hated it. His entire life that he spent in this house he had been afraid and felt uneasy and lost. He hated being alone and loved that he had to share his bed with Connor and loved the nights they would spend together in Altaїr's bed or when at least he could sleep in his bed. When he looked down the hallway the hallway stared back at him dark and gloomy even though outside waited a bright late summer day. He should sit in class right now and he should enjoy his teenage life with his friend, instead, he stood in this ruin and wandered through it like a ghost. Well, he felt like a ghost at least.

Slowly he passed the bathroom without even looking inside, and then he poked his head inside the nursery. Their beds were still there and seemingly intact except for the mattresses. Desmond couldn’t help but to bite his lip when he saw some of their old broken toys lying around on the ground and it felt like he just left this place. He could still hear Connor moaning about the way he was treating his toy truck and he still could Ezio grumble about them being too loud and that he couldn’t concentrate on his homework. The room wasn’t as bad as the kitchen or the living room but mold crept down the walls here too and so Desmond turned again and walked on. His destination was Altaїr's room because it was the room he had felt the safest. His room appeared nearly untouched. The nightstand he built by himself was broken and so was the lamp and his window was smashed (the rock that was used still lay on the floor). The ground was dusty and so were the shelves he stuffed his books on. Some of them still were there. He could see H.G. Wells _War of the Worlds_ and grabbed it without even thinking about it. Altaїr loved this book, he remembered that. His bed seemed to be still intact and that was quite a miracle in consideration of how it creaked under their combined weight every time.

There were clothes lying around, ripped from his closet opposite the bed and some of them Desmond remembered. He forced himself to ignore the white hoodie lying on the ground and forced himself not to think about the countless times Altaїr would’ve wrapped his little brother inside the hoodie in cold winter nights and laughed when the hood nearly swallowed his little head. Instead, he sat on the bed and listened to the familiar little creaking noise before he dragged his feet onto the mattress and began reading this dusty book.

He wanted to blend out his worries and the reason why he was here and he wanted to not think about what he did to Kadar. He would never hear the end of it, as soon as he would get home, that was for sure. He was not the good kid and he knew that, but he wasn’t the rebel either who got into fights and hit other people. He was just the kid that was dragged along, the kid that couldn’t go down the stairs without his brothers holding his hand. He was the most dependent and he hated this. He clung to his brothers for dear life and he was afraid that it would never be different.

He had no clue what he wanted to do with his life later on and he had no clue who he really was or wanted to be. He was jealous of Connor who was in contact with his dad, even though they didn’t get along that well and he was so jealous of Kadar and all those other kids that were raised by good parents. He never really met his mother because she died so soon after his birth and his father was a criminal bastard that nearly killed his beloved big brother – the only father he really knew. What if he would turn out like him? How did Bill become this way? Was it just in his nature or did something happen to him? Was he born a monster or was he made one?

Desmond had no clue how long he really stayed at the house reading the book, but by the time he heard a noise from downstairs it was already dark outside. "Fuck…" He hissed and finally shoved the book into his backpack before jumping to his feet. He better should go home now for his brother probably was worried sick. Well, he hadn’t called, so probably he wasn’t _that_ worried. The kid in him even asked itself if his brother was perhaps glad that he was gone (totally ignoring the fact that he left his phone this morning in his room on the charger). There was another noise from downstairs, something that sounded like footsteps shuffling through the downstairs hallway. Until now he hadn't really thought about the possibility of getting caught inside this house or that perhaps some homeless person might sleep in here. When he heard the creaking of the stairs he felt his stomach dropping. His eyes shifted to the window. He could climb outside and leave like Altaїr did. Oh, who was he kidding? There was no way of him climbing out that window without breaking every bone in his body.

"Desmond?"

He couldn’t even try to put into words how relieved he was hearing _that_ voice and on the same instant, he was terrified. He knew there was no way out and no way to escape without getting seen by Malik, because he already heard him in the upstairs hallways approaching. He could as well step outside and face Malik's disappointment and anger for punching his brother. But he didn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to move, instead, he sat down on the edge of the bed again and dragged his hands over his face and listened to the footsteps suddenly stopping.

"There you are…" Malik's voice was soft and warm and his face full or worry and relieve at the same time when Desmond finally lifted his gaze to look at him and then decided to study his feet again. It was good feet. Not too long and not too small, they were slim with exact ten long toes (of course not visible because of his sneakers and his very yellow socks) and they were very reliable too. They never really disappointed the teenager and carried him everywhere he wanted to go. So judging by all those facts he was sure he could call them really good feet. There was nothing to criticize about them. "We tried to call you but you left your phone at home. What's wrong?" Malik then asked and finally stepped inside the room. No anger was visible on his face when he crouched down in front of the bed to look at his face and he didn’t sound angry too.

"Nothing." Desmond finally mumbled and his own voice felt heavy with guilt not only for worrying his family but for punching Kadar.

"Yeah, that’s what you look like." Malik sighed and got to his feet again, but not to pull him up to his feet too, but to sit next to him. "Well, you really got us worried when I got to your school because Kadar called and said you were gone after you punched him."

"…'m sorry…"

"It's alright. Kadar probably deserved it. He said you were fighting and that he teased you. He is not made of glass, so don’t worry – He is not mad by the way and I am not mad also, just in case you ran away because you were afraid we would yell at you. Well, of course, Altaїr said you won't get any cookies for the next month." Malik then chuckled softly and nudged his shoulder but Desmond just looked with big eyes at him – not because of the cookie-punishment. "Altaїr was worried sick after you didn’t come home the whole day. He even called Connor and Ezio to search for you, but after they said they hadn’t seen you, I knew you must be here."

"Why?" Desmond finally managed to ask before looking down at his feet again, his shoulders slumped down in guilt even though Malik wasn’t angry with him. He still remembered the day when he _got lost_ in an indoor playground and Altaїr was nearly hysterical because of this. He didn’t want to worry his brother after all he did for him.

"Well for one reason because I know you for – let me calculate – seven years now. I know you since you were eight years old, little one. I saw you grow up and I know how you function." Desmond couldn’t help but smirk just for a second. "And the other reason why I knew you would be here was because I found _this_."

Desmond knew what it was before Malik could even show the letter to him. The once white paper was stained and yellowish and crumpled like someone scrunched it up and threw it away. Someone named Desmond. Yes, he knew the letter and he didn’t want to see it again. He just sighed but didn’t sit up straight again.

"So he wrote you a letter from jail?"

"Yeah…" He sighed and finally sat up to look at Malik. "His lawyer send it to me a few days ago."

"Why didn’t you talk to us about this?" There was no accusation in his voice, only concern, but Desmond shrugged his shoulders.

"I didn’t want to worry you guys." He said and made a face. "I suppose that didn’t work that well. Did you read it?"

"No. I only saw Bill's signature. What did he write?" Because this guy was Malik Al-fucking-Sayf and he would never in his life read a letter that wasn’t for him. He was the man whose picture was next to the word _correct_ in the dictionary.

"He wrote that he wanted to see me when he gets out because he didn’t want me to visit a place like the jail. He seems to think we could have a fresh start as soon as he gets out. He never said he was sorry for what he did. Well … he wrote he was sorry that I had to live through the whole ordeal of the trial and listen to those accusations against him, but he never said he was sorry for what he had done to Altaїr or us during all those years. How can he possibly expect me to answer him in any way or even forgive him?" The words finally ( _finally_ ) escaped him and sputtered from his mouth. He was tired of keeping his thoughts to himself any longer.

"Well, I believe he never admitted to himself that he himself was responsible for him being locked up. I think he never owned up to his guilt and that he bullied you and hurt you guys all those years. I have seen this man during the trial, Desmond. He was in denial even when the judge delivered the sentence and blamed Altaїr for the fight and it's end and I don’t think that he managed to man up and admit his crimes during his time served. When he comes out he will still blame Altaїr and _or_ the alcohol. I don’t imply that you cannot see him when he gets out. If you want to see him-"

"He raped him, didn’t he?" Desmond then asked and lowered his gaze just another time to the ground thinking back to that horrible night when he was exactly in this room, hiding wrapped up in Connor's and Ezio's arms under a makeshift blanket-fort. He felt anger rising in his throat and heat behind his forehead ready to explode.

Malik just stopped and was silent for a second before he spoke up again. "Yes, he did. Ezio said so and the wounds found on Altaїr confirmed it, but at least he can't remember it."

 _At least he can't remember it_ , as if that would make a difference! As if that would make it any better! He had sat here in this very bed hiding under this very blanket while his big brother was nearly beaten to death and raped by _his_ father. _His_. Not Altaїr's father, not Ezio's father and not Connor's father, but _his_. As if Malik knew what Desmond was thinking he wrapped his left arm around his shoulders and gave him a quick squeeze. "This lies in the past Desmond. Six years passed since then. I won't say it is okay, because it isn’t. This was a wound inflicted on your brother that isn’t to be repaired by anyone, but he is fine and there is nothing you could’ve done back then. Listen, Desmond, there is _nothing_ an eight-year-old boy could’ve done to prevent it and there was no way of foreseeing what he might do."

"How is it possible that Altaїr is not angry with Ezio for provoking a situation like this? It was Ezio's fault that Bill had been so enraged that day. Why isn’t he mad at him? Why aren’t _you_ mad at him?" - Because he was just as affected as any of them.

"Well, _I_ was. I wanted to rip his head off when he told me the whole story. I wanted to beat the crap out of him for being so stupid. I really wanted to punch him not only for provoking the situation but for him letting Altaїr get hurt like this without helping him. But then I saw how grief-stricken he really was and how sad he was and how guilty he felt. I think Altaїr was angry with him at some point – but you know your brother at least as good as I do. Altaїr can be angry with you guys, but you are his little brothers and he would never let it out on you. I don’t think he will ever grow out of this protective role. Perhaps this _job_ as your protector helped him even with processing the whole thing. He never had the chance to break down because he needed to be strong for you guys and I think that was exactly what was good for him."

"Did he ever speak about all this with you?" Desmond asked cautiously and tried to relax a little in Malik's half hug.

"Of course, he did. Not right away of course, but yes he did. There really is no need for you to run away or feel guilty about all this. You have done nothing wrong."

He could talk. It was easy for Malik saying those things because he hadn’t been there and he hadn’t been involved that night. "That’s not that easy, Malik." He then growled when he finally stood up and crossed the room just to step on broken glass and clothes. He really wanted to grab this white hoodie and put it on to feel a little bit more like he had felt when he was a kid protected by his big brother from the cold. "It's not that simple! I can't just shut my brain off like this! Why didn’t he tell me? Why did _no one_ tell me what really happened that night?"

"You were eight years old Desmond."

"Yes, I was! But now I am fifteen and still no one told me! Still, I had to figure it out myself! Still, everyone thinks they need to protect me like I was still eight years old! I am tired of this! Why did he always played the hero and threw himself between us and Bill? Why did he never yell at us for getting in trouble or making Bill angry?!"

"Because he wanted at least you to have somewhat like a good childhood. You should know that by now." Malik sighed, but he didn’t stand up to bridge the gap between them again. This time, he didn’t reach out to him but left him where he was and Desmond was glad because otherwise, he could’ve punched Malik too.

"As if that would’ve worked! My childhood was just as crappy as the others, but I didn’t realize it because I was a stupid kid that was pampered by his big brothers so it would not learn how the reality really was! So it would not learn that it's mother was just a slut that really slept with everyone and their cousin Bob to get pregnant by _four_ different men and kill herself afterwards! That’s another thing my brothers never told me! Why didn’t he tell me that she killed herself?!"

"He didn’t tell it Ezio or Connor either."

"But why?"

"Because he didn’t want you guys to know. He didn’t want you to know that your mother was such a person or that you probably start thinking she didn’t want you."

"But she didn’t! She didn’t want me, did she? If she would’ve wanted me she wouldn’t have killed herself so shortly after my birth! She would've stuck with us and worked through her problems if she would’ve really loved us! Instead, she tossed me out in this world and killed herself! I know that Bill wouldn’t allow her to abort me so she simply killed herself! If it wasn’t for me she would be still around and my brothers wouldn’t have to live like this!"

"It is not that simple Desmond, you know that. No one really knows what she was thinking back then. No one really knows why she killed herself. Altaїr said she drank and that she was depressive as long as he could remember. Yes she was afraid and unhappy when she found out about you, that is the truth and you deserve to know it, but she wouldn’t kill you because she loved you and wanted to give you a chance in life. I am not defending a woman that left four children behind for a cowardly decision, a woman that left her oldest son in charge over his three younger brothers, but she loved you. She could as well have thrown herself down the stairs if not abort you and Altaїr once told me that she would always protect her belly when Bill was hitting her. She didn’t want you to be hurt, she didn’t want you to be dead. Altaїr always said she was unfit for this life and for being a mother and perhaps she was, but that isn’t your fault."

Desmond really wanted to believe that, he really did, but he was fifteen and hormonal and he couldn’t believe. "But what if I am becoming like my father? I am always angry at absolutely anyone! What if I slowly am becoming like him? People say I'm a chip off the old block when they meet me for the first time and I hate this! I don’t want to be like Bill. But it is the truth, isn’t it? Altaїr's dad was a police officer and just look at him! I can't think of someone that is more protective than Altaїr – like a police officer protecting the people! And look at Connor and Haytham! They are much more alike as they want to admit! What if I'll be like him one day?"

"You won't." Malik finally said and chuckled a little before he stood up. Desmond really wanted to punch him. He really, really did. How could he laugh at him when he was pouring his heart out at him?!

"How would _you_ know that?" He growled when he clenched his fists ever so slightly, but enough for Malik to see it and raising his hands in defeat in front of him.

"Because I know you since you were eight years old. Because I care for you, because I dressed your wounds every time you fell and because I nursed you when you were sick. I know you just as well as I know my own little brother and I love you just as much. It is not possible for you becoming like this man. Monsters are not born they are made. When people say you are a chip of the old block they don’t mean your father, they mean Altaїr. You were never your father's son and you were never raised by your father, Desmond and you know that pretty well. You were raised by your brother and there was a reason why you weren't allowed getting downstairs on your own and why you weren't allowed climbing the stairs on your own when you were little. There was a reason why you weren't allowed to go out on your own or wander around or why you weren't allowed using sharp scissors or knives when you were a child. This house was a place of danger for all of your four boys, but your brothers – not just Altaїr – made sure that at least _you_ won't be hurt by this man or really anything else. They protected you not to pamper you, but because they really love you and because they really care for you. And that alone is reason enough for you to not become like your father. You were never influenced by your father, Altaїr made sure of that because he didn’t want you to become angry like this guy. He wanted you to be happy and healthy and _yourself_. The only father figure you were influenced by was Altaїr, so you should be proud when people say you are a chip of the old block."

With that, Malik managed to shut him up. For a moment Desmond really didn’t know what to say. He never looked at it like this. He never thought about the possibility that the people could really mean Altaїr. "I always thought people would look funny at us, you know? I was always the weird kid everywhere I went and I always had teachers and parents whispering behind our backs." He then confessed when Malik finally bridged the distance between them and grabbed his lean shoulders reassuringly. "I was always the kid without parents, always the kid that had no mother to pick me up and no father either. And now I am that weird kid living with his brother and his husband because my father is in jail and _everyone_ knows this."

"How do you feel about the situation with me and Altaїr?" Malik then asked and rubbed his shoulders. It was quite warm during the day still, but it got chilly out there by the time the sun would set and until this moment Desmond didn’t realize that he was cold. "I mean … if you don’t like it-"

"I do. I don’t want you to leave." Malik wouldn’t anyway. "But it's hard in school. I don’t want to get angry all the time for being teased about my _gay family_. I should be used to this by now but I am not and I want to be calmer - just like Connor is! Or sassier like Kadar and Ezio. They cope with the stupid people so well - only I get angry."

"Oh, believe me, they weren't calm either the first time they would get teased or were being laughed at. Connor cried his eyes out during Junior-High on more than one occasion." Malik laughed. "But I guess when you are so afraid of getting angry and hurting someone in school, maybe we should try and find you some way to cope with your anger."

"What do you mean? Yoga?" He tried to smirk again, but it didn’t work. He felt tired and exhausted.

"No, stupid." Malik laughed and pinched his nose. "I mean something like material arts. What do you think?"

Material arts? Desmond never saw himself as a fighter. He probably wouldn’t survive his first few training lessons. He would break his neck or something, but maybe it was worth a try. He knew they needed to work harder than normal families. They needed to be better in school and well behaved and he could not run around getting angry, for no particular reason only to reside in hitting people. With a deep, deep sigh, he looked up to Malik again and let his shoulders slump in defeat. "I think I want to go home now…"

And with that Malik wrapped his left arm around his shoulders again and started moving towards the door after Desmond snaked his own arm around his big brother's waist. "I think we can arrange that and perhaps Altaїr will make you pudding."

 

 


End file.
